


in this house, nightmares are just old friends

by VillainousTalking (rainbowshoes)



Series: pray for the wicked [4]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst Medium Roast, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Protective Bucky Barnes, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 12:19:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15949205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowshoes/pseuds/VillainousTalking
Summary: tony's really tired of having the same old nightmares over and over.





	in this house, nightmares are just old friends

Bucky snaps awake, jerking upright with his knife in his hand before he registers what the problem is. But then he feels movement beside him, and his attention zeros in on the other side of the bed. Tony is jerking badly, enough that when his leg kicks out, his toes collide with Bucky’s calf. Bucky finds the sheath for his KBAR under the pillow, slides the knife into it, then tucks it away once more. He eases across the bed and smooths a hand over Tony’s shoulder, catching the thrown fist easily. 

“Tony, Tony wake up,” Bucky calls. He’s careful to keep his voice soft and gentle. Tony jerks again, but his eyes don’t open. “Listen, doll, you gotta wake up for me now. Whatever you’re seein’s just a dream. Come on, now, wake up, Tony.” He rubs Tony’s back in slow circles.

Tony's eyes squeeze tight and then open wide. Bucky offers up a small smile, but then he notices the tears building in Tony's eyes, shining in the dim light. When Tony rolls to his side and buries his face in his pillow, Bucky frowns and wraps his arms around Tony, kissing his bare shoulder and combing his fingers through Tony's hair.

“Tell me what happened?” Bucky murmurs in the darkness. His voice almost feels too loud, too much for the fragile silence in the room.

“Nightmares,” Tony says, his voice muffled by the pillow. He sniffs hard and scrubs his face over the pillow. Bucky doesn't say anything as Tony twists in his arms and presses his forehead to Bucky's chest. “At first it was - was Thanos again. You and Peter and so many others...you were all gone. The world was shit.” Tony chuckles humorlessly.

“It's all over now,” Bucky whispers, trying for something comforting despite knowing the words won't help much. “Do you want to get up for a bit? See if that helps?” Tony nods against Bucky’s chest, like Bucky knew he would, and Bucky bends enough to kiss the top of his head. He carefully extracts himself from Tony’s hold because he knows that if he doesn’t move first, Tony will never get up. Tony grumbles just a little as Bucky moves away, but as FRIDAY lightens the room for them bit by bit, Tony rolls over to his other side and sits up with his feet over the edge of the bed. 

Bucky walks around to Tony’s side of the bed and takes Tony’s hand in his flesh hand. He rubs Tony’s knuckles with his thumb for a moment, just trying to ground Tony in the present. It isn’t always easy to help Tony during nights like this. Sometimes Bucky can’t help at all, and those nights are the worst for him. He hates feeling so useless. But tonight Tony looks up at Bucky with an attempt at a smile, which is really just a slight uptick in one corner of his mouth, and he stands. Bucky wraps his arms around Tony for a moment and holds him, pressing their still sleep-warm bodies close. Tony doesn’t immediately return the embrace, but the fact that he does eventually lift his arms and drape them over Bucky’s shoulders tells Bucky a lot about how the rest of tonight will go.

Bucky pulls away but keeps Tony’s hand carefully curled in his own. He leads Tony out to their own, private little living area. He takes Tony to the couch, has him sit, and drapes the heavy but warm and soft blanket from the back of the couch over his lap. Bucky heads to their tiny kitchenette next and grabs two bottles of water from the mini-fridge. When he gets back to the couch, he sits so that his left arm is pressed along Tony’s side. The various contrasting sensations should help keep Tony in the present if he decides he wants to tell Bucky about the rest of his nightmare.

“Thanks,” Tony mutters as he unscrews the cap on the water bottle. He drinks a good bit of it, then closes it and drops it to the couch cushion beside his thigh. He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes and takes a long, deep breath. “The other nightmare was about Howard.”

Howard has always been a particularly touchy subject. It’s hard to avoid the mention of him, but most of the time, those who are around Tony the most don’t bring him up. Bucky’s seen Tony have to take a half a second to rebuild his mask every time some reporter or journalist or nosy interviewer mentions Howard, and it hurts each time. There are times when Bucky really doesn’t regret that HYDRA used him to murder Howard, though he wishes he’d have left Tony’s mother alive.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Bucky offers. Sometimes Tony does, sometimes he doesn't. Bucky always tries to respect both choices, even if he might not want to know things sometimes - or if he really does. He isn't Tony's therapist, and he doesn't try to be, but he is there to listen. Sometimes that's all Tony really needs. It might have taken him a long time to figure that out, but he thinks he's figured out a pretty good balance for things by now. He hopes he has, anyway. 

“I was six when Howard broke my arm,” Tony tells him in that painfully dry voice that Bucky absolutely despises. He understands the reason for it, the reason why Tony needs that emotional disconnect from hard conversations, but understanding doesn't always lead to acceptance. “He was drunk, and I was pestering him about something I'd built. I'd waited all day for him to come home so I could show him. I was supposed to be in bed. But when I heard him come home, I ran to the top of the stairs to show him. I wouldn't just...shut up and leave him alone like he told me to. So he backhanded me, and I fell. Then he grabbed my arm to make me go to bed, and I guess he grabbed it wrong or something because I remember the sound of the bone snapping.”

Bucky curls his fingers around Tony's wrist as gently as he can. “He can't hurt you anymore.” This story is just one of dozens Tony's told him over the years. They're all bad, but some are worse than others. Bucky fights to suppress the anger building in his chest, tries to replace it with sympathy and patience. 

“Tell my subconscious that,” Tony says dryly. He leans his head against the back of the couch and closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them again, the hollow look isn't quite gone, but it's less. “I...I'm glad he's dead.” The confession is whispered, like it's too great a secret to be trusted to anything louder than that, too delicate. 

“I'm glad I killed him,” Bucky admits just as quietly. Tony sucks in a sharp breath. Bucky shakes his head a little. “I...I know it wasn't really  _ me _ , but…” He licks his bottom lip, searching for the exact right words to use for this little confession of his own. Tony gets so very defensive when this topic comes up - fighting tooth and nail for Bucky's innocence regarding everything HYDRA forced him to do when he was their puppet. Sometimes, it's nice. Sometimes, Bucky wishes Tony would just accept the blood staining Bucky's hands. 

In a way, Tony does. He understands that Bucky can't think of things the way Tony does, and he doesn't push so hard when he's talking to only Bucky. Yet when they talk about Tony's parents, it's always a little harder for Tony to accept Bucky's sense of responsibility. Bucky can understand that aspect. They were Tony's parents, of course Tony needs to justify it to himself that his current lover wasn't truly responsible for murdering them. It's always been a delicate balancing act between them, one they've probably never properly discussed the way they should. They're both far too good at avoiding those conversations.

“I'm glad, too.” 

Tony's words jerk Bucky out of his thoughts. He turns his head to stare directly at Tony, only to find Tony already looking at him. Bucky licks his lip again, ready to say - something, anything. He isn't sure if he wants to protest his own claim or Tony's acceptance or what, but he knows he can't stay silent. Not now.

“Baby...”

“I'm glad you did it,” Tony says. He has that stubborn damn expression on his face that Bucky knows means he won't get to argue. “Because if it had been anyone else? He probably would have lived, and I'd have been stuck in that neverending cycle of abuse and self-harm.” Bucky sucks in a sharp breath at that, but Tony keeps going. “He's dead, and even though I was pretty fucked up about it for way longer than I care to admit, I can also admit that it was my mom's death that hurt the most. I...I might not ever be able to forgive her death. But Howard's?” Tony sits up straight and cups Bucky's face with both hands. “I can thank the person who took that bastard out of my life for good.”

With those words, Tony kisses Bucky. It's barely a touch of lips, but it has so much meaning Bucky almost wants to cry. He twists a little and wraps his arms around Tony's waist, then hides his face against Tony's neck and shoulder. He doesn't know what he can possibly say to that. How is he supposed to say anything at all?

“I'm still sorry,” Bucky whispers. “Maybe...maybe not for killing him, but for causing you so much pain.”

“If he'd been alive, Howard would have done far worse,” Tony says. He isn't trying to play it off with a light, sarcastic tone, either. He's horribly serious, and Bucky hates it. “Just...let me be grateful. I didn't have to suffer him anymore. Thanks to you.”

Bucky doesn't say a word against Tony this time. He can't. They sit like that for several long minutes before FRIDAY informs them that it's now six in the morning and that Tony has a meeting at nine. Bucky reluctantly pulls away from Tony and kisses his cheek. 

“I'll make breakfast,” Bucky offers as Tony stands.

“Sounds good,” Tony says. He sounds so tired. Bucky wishes he knew how to be better, but he has no idea where to start. “What do you say to just...starting today over? Pretend like this didn't happen?”

“Wish it worked that way,” Bucky says with his own soft, tired sigh. Tony gives him a wry grimace of a smile. “Want me to join you in the shower instead?”

“Now that's a plan I can get behind,” Tony says with a far more genuine smirk. They head for the bathroom together, and Bucky thinks, maybe even with all this mess between them, they'll still be okay. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you @narcissae for the prompt ♥


End file.
